


Reward System

by Highsmith (quimtessence)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: 1960s, Bisexual Disaster Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Canon Queer Character of Color, Casual Sex, Character Study, Consensual Infidelity, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Pre-Canon, The Author Striving for Historical Accuracy and Hoping for the Best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimtessence/pseuds/Highsmith
Summary: "Yes?" he asks, and Booker thinks he says, "Yes," but he may have swallowed his own tongue before he could. Good thing Joe's tongue is in his mouth, helping him find it anew, and, when he does, he feels inclined to draw it out with his own, andoh, all right, Booker's starting to form a theory here.He drags himself away when Joe's hands go to his waist. "Nicky agreed to this?"
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 244





	Reward System

**Author's Note:**

> I've been craving some Booker/Joe/Nicky lately, and I meant to write me some, but then only Booker/Joe happened. Whoops?!
> 
> And hey, Booker might be an idiot, but he's _our_ idiot.

Booker spends the latter part of the Sixties painfully sober shacked up in the English countryside with two strange men and an even stranger woman, never mind they've died with each other for more than half a century now. The immortality remains an oddity. Given the current political climate and their prompt return from the New World, discretion thus seems advisable, hence the sobriety. The English weather doesn't help his mood, though.

Otherwise, it's an uneventful decade, sans the minor conflicts they always seem to involve themselves with. The lack of wine lasts far longer than Booker would have anticipated, ending at about the time they enlist in the conflict between France and the Prussians.

Booker doesn't attempt the whole sober thing until the next Sixties, but that's bound to be a wash given the current availability of much more interesting substances. Andy is watching him like a hawk, however, and Booker promised to behave, or at least cut down, so here he is, bored in a flat in Camden Town. At least the music's good.

Andy and Nicky are out scoping out a barge which will take them down to South America without too many questions asked. It won't be easy, but there's shit they need to take care of, _and then_ there's the piles of shit they need to hunt down.

In the other room, Joe's been exceptionally quiet. Probably cleaning Nicky's rifle again. Booker wishes that were an euphemism and that he could watch, but alas, neither is the case.

He brews himself a pot of coffee, because tea is for other people, and idles around their kitchen while the filter boils.

"I'd like a cup if you're making enough for two."

He turns and spots Joe casually leaning against the door frame. There's nothing casual about him not wearing a shirt. "More than enough." But they live in each other's pockets almost literally. This is not an uncommon sight. Nonetheless, it stirs something dark in Booker. He wishes for wine or whiskey or for someone to knock him flat on his face.

He recalls a time about a hundred years back when he thought he saw something akin to interest, but he's never asked either of them for anything. Not even to join, even though he's heard intimations they may have allowed such a thing in the olden days, centuries prior to Booker's birth.

He pours them both a cup once the coffee's finished percolating. It's disgusting stuff, but better than nothing.

"Yours," he says, passing Joe his cup, for which he has to enter the kitchen proper.

And which he utterly bypasses in favour of stepping up to Booker and completely invading anything which might even remotely resemble his personal space.

"Um," he tries. But Joe says, "I heard you are having trouble laying off the bottle." It's not a question.

"Huh," he says. Then, "Yeah, it's not, heh. Not my finest trait, but I've had it the longest," he finishes a little pathetically.

He's got an inch or two on Joe, but it feels as if he's towering over Booker right now, whose eyes are averted out of something he can't name, still awkwardly holding out Joe's cup. He places it on the counter next to his. Then he looks up, only it's more like down and sideways, and Joe is already watching him.

"I've been talking it over with Nicky, and we think you need a reward system. To help with keeping your promise."

Look, Booker is a reasonably bright fellow, usually takes care of intelligence gathering, is a network of one with a fondness for books which is almost inherent to his character, but he must be missing something here, because Joe's words have yet to make sense.

Might be an equally obvious fellow as well, because Joe's face changes as if he's got an answer to a long-standing question just by looking at him. Booker would heartily like to know the question, though that can wait, because Joe's suddenly closer and leaning in until there's only a breath left between them.

"Yes?" he asks, and Booker thinks he says, "Yes," but he may have swallowed his own tongue before he could. Good thing Joe's tongue is in his mouth, helping him find it anew, and, when he does, he feels inclined to draw it out with his own, and _oh_ , all right, Booker's starting to form a theory here.

He drags himself away when Joe's hands go to his waist. "Nicky agreed to this?"

"He suggested it. He's very kindhearted," Joe comments, a smile playing at his lips.

Unless this is an odd trick, Booker can't see any reason to not indulge. Joe does tell him, "You have abstained for twelve weeks. We noticed. It's the longest period since last century, and we want you to keep going," and kisses him before Booker can say anything to that.

There's little talking afterwards. They go to Joe and Nicky's room, which is marginally cleaner than his. It does, however, have a larger bed. They roll around on it until Joe ends up straddling his lap. Lacking more clothing would make it far more interesting, and Joe must be thinking the same, because he unbuttons and unzips his trousers and reaches for Booker's own as Booker almost tears his own shirt off.

Joe gets dislodged from his seat, but once they both throw off the last of their clothes he's free to crawl this way between Booker's legs and then higher up his thighs until Booker's cock gets nestled into the crease of his rather phenomenal arse. Joe's palms push at his shoulders to flatten Booker's back to the bed. He leans forward to resume their earlier kiss, while Joe's cock drags across Booker's belly a little shamelessly.

He clutches at Joe's hips almost instinctively, and it turns into Booker guiding him to rock back and forth, positioning him where he needs him in order to thrust smoothly between his cheeks, every once in a while catching at his hole with his cockhead. He swallows Joe's moans and Joe swallows his harsh grunts, and together they strive to remain quiet enough not to alert the neighbours of their activities through the undoubtedly thin walls separating their flats. Actually, Booker's pretty certain the walls are genuinely thin, given he's had a front-row seat to the Joe and Nicky show more than once.

It doesn't last long. Booker's been a little busy lately to look for company and his ears have confirmed to him on multiple occasions that both Nicky and Joe can go several times in a row, know what they like and how to get there efficiently if need be.

He comes first, thrusting upwards and painting Joe's back with it, smearing it onto his own palms clutching at his hips. He feels too good to protest in any way, however, and, besides, Joe's near spilling himself, hips working swiftly to drag his cock along Booker's hip bone until he finally smears him with his come high enough it reaches a nipple. It's suddenly a hilarious sight.

When he glances up, he notices Joe's smiling, too.

"Better?" he asks, and Booker wishes he knew how to explain it all, but instead he answers with, "Hmm, good enough."

And, well, he deserves Joe's eye-roll and the painful little pinch to his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos greatly appreciated! <3
> 
> Tumblr: [rhubarbdreams](https://rhubarbdreams.tumblr.com/)


End file.
